A mature bull may average 1, to 2, pounds, while an average cow will weigh between 1, and 1, pounds. Of particular interest to commercial breeders are the higher weights reached by Santa Gertrudis cattle compared to other meat breeds. At weaning time eight months they will average pounds more than European counterparts. Mature Santa Gertrudis steers and cows average pounds heavier than European breeds of the same age.
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Four-year-old steers on the King Ranch will average 1, pounds when finished on grass before going to market, and will outdress European breeds by an average of 3 percent. After the sale the Santa Gertrudis Breeders Association was formed; in the early s it was known as the Santa Gertrudis Breeders International, and its headquarters were in Kingsville.
In the King Ranch entered into a partnership with Australian cattlemen and developers, shipping Santa Gertrudis cattle to northeastern Australia in a very successful effort to upgrade Hereford qv , Devon, and Angus cattle in Australia. By the early s these superior cattle had been promoted into a highly profitable enterprise, with thousands of Santa Gertrudis cattle entering the market each year.
In there were 3, Santa Gertrudis breeders, and Texas had more than , Santa Gertrudis cattle. All copyrighted materials included within the Handbook of Texas Online are in accordance with Title 17 U.
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Skip to Main Content. And where was Atman to be found, where did He reside, where did his eternal heart beat, where else but in one's own self, in its innermost part, in its indestructible part, which everyone had in himself? But where, where was this self, this innermost part, this ultimate part? It was not flesh and bone, it was neither thought nor consciousness, thus the wisest ones taught.
So, where, where was it? To reach this place, the self, myself, the Atman, there was another way, which was worthwhile looking for? Alas, and nobody showed this way, nobody knew it, not the father, and not the teachers and wise men, not the holy sacrificial songs! They knew everything, the Brahmans and their holy books, they knew everything, they had taken care of everything and of more than everything, the creation of the world, the origin of speech, of food, of inhaling, of exhaling, the arrangement of the senses, the acts of the gods, they knew infinitely much--but was it valuable to know all of this, not knowing that one and only thing, the most important thing, the solely important thing?
Surely, many verses of the holy books, particularly in the Upanishades of Samaveda, spoke of this innermost and ultimate thing, wonderful verses.
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Marvellous wisdom was in these verses, all knowledge of the wisest ones had been collected here in magic words, pure as honey collected by bees. No, not to be looked down upon was the tremendous amount of enlightenment which lay here collected and preserved by innumerable generations of wise Brahmans. Where was the knowledgeable one who wove his spell to bring his familiarity with the Atman out of the sleep into the state of being awake, into the life, into every step of the way, into word and deed? Siddhartha knew many venerable Brahmans, chiefly his father, the pure one, the scholar, the most venerable one.
His father was to be admired, quiet and noble were his manners, pure his life, wise his words, delicate and noble thoughts lived behind its brow --but even he, who knew so much, did he live in blissfulness, did he have peace, was he not also just a searching man, a thirsty man? Did he not, again and again, have to drink from holy sources, as a thirsty man, from the offerings, from the books, from the disputes of the Brahmans?
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Why did he, the irreproachable one, have to wash off sins every day, strive for a cleansing every day, over and over every day? Was not Atman in him, did not the pristine source spring from his heart? It had to be found, the pristine source in one's own self, it had to be possessed!
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Everything else was searching, was a detour, was getting lost. Often he spoke to himself from a Chandogya-Upanishad the words: And among all the wise and wisest men, he knew and whose instructions he had received, among all of them there was no one, who had reached it completely, the heavenly world, who had quenched it completely, the eternal thirst.
They went to the Banyan tree, they sat down, Siddhartha right here, Govinda twenty paces away. While putting himself down, ready to speak the Om, Siddhartha repeated murmuring the verse:. Om is the bow, the arrow is soul, The Brahman is the arrow's target, That one should incessantly hit.
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After the usual time of the exercise in meditation had passed, Govinda rose. The evening had come, it was time to perform the evening's ablution. He called Siddhartha's name. Siddhartha did not answer. Siddhartha sat there lost in thought, his eyes were rigidly focused towards a very distant target, the tip of his tongue was protruding a little between the teeth, he seemed not to breathe.
Thus sat he, wrapped up in contemplation, thinking Om, his soul sent after the Brahman as an arrow. Once, Samanas had travelled through Siddhartha's town, ascetics on a pilgrimage, three skinny, withered men, neither old nor young, with dusty and bloody shoulders, almost naked, scorched by the sun, surrounded by loneliness, strangers and enemies to the world, strangers and lank jackals in the realm of humans.
Behind them blew a hot scent of quiet passion, of destructive service, of merciless self-denial. In the evening, after the hour of contemplation, Siddhartha spoke to Govinda: He will become a Samana. Govinda turned pale, when he heard these words and read the decision in the motionless face of his friend, unstoppable like the arrow shot from the bow. Soon and with the first glance, Govinda realized: Now it is beginning, now Siddhartha is taking his own way, now his fate is beginning to sprout, and with his, my own.
And he turned pale like a dry banana-skin. Siddhartha looked over as if he was just waking up. Tomorrow, at daybreak I will begin the life of the Samanas. Speak no more of it. Siddhartha entered the chamber, where his father was sitting on a mat of bast, and stepped behind his father and remained standing there, until his father felt that someone was standing behind him.
Then say what you came to say. I came to tell you that it is my longing to leave your house tomorrow and go to the ascetics. My desire is to become a Samana.
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May my father not oppose this. The Brahman fell silent, and remained silent for so long that the stars in the small window wandered and changed their relative positions, 'ere the silence was broken. Silent and motionless stood the son with his arms folded, silent and motionless sat the father on the mat, and the stars traced their paths in the sky.
Then spoke the father: But indignation is in my heart.
I wish not to hear this request for a second time from your mouth. After an hour, since no sleep had come over his eyes, the Brahman stood up, paced to and fro, and left the house. Through the small window of the chamber he looked back inside, and there he saw Siddhartha standing, his arms folded, not moving from his spot.